I am not American. I have never even been to America. But I do remember Tuesday, September 11th 2001.
I was in Grade 10, and it was the annual Shakespeare evening. We had been practicing for weeks, and we were all waiting to go on stage to perform our Shakespeare pieces. Then there were murmurs, and whispers, and eventually one of the girls stood up and confirmed the terror attacks that had taken place in New York. The auditorium went quiet. It was an uncomfortable silence; no one quite knew what to say. Then Michelle, who would be our head girl in 2003, stood up, and asked that we bow our heads in a minutes silence, and to keep the American people in our thoughts and prayers. We were only aware of the attacks in New York, on the World Trade Centre; we hadn’t yet found out about the plane that went down in Pennsylvania, and the attack on the Pentagon. As it was 2001, mobile technology wasn’t as savvy as it is today. By the end of our evening, we were all aware of the 4 attacks, and absolutely shocked and flabbergasted at not only the brutality of it all, but also the audacity of the hijackers.
America, the land of dreams. Attacked. Brutalised. Broken.
I could not believe that something of this magnitude had taken place; I was in shock and it didn’t even affect me personally. But I do believe that, American or not, every person on the planet was affected in some way or another by the events of that Tuesday, almost 13 years ago. Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, cousins, nephews, nieces, friends, taken so suddenly and viciously, innocent victims of evil.
I remember Tuesday, September 11th 2001.